A Fair Shot
by megaflash
Summary: Draco tries something new


"I don't understand," intoned Draco Malfoy. His eyes darted around, observing the mass of people around him. His hand twitched for a wand that was no longer on his person.

Auror Harry Potter sighed., "The Wizengamot, in its supreme wisdom, has decided to try and rehabilitate select Death Eaters they believe can be redeemed."

Draco didn't take his eyes off the muggle- filled pier. Lights blinked brightly and strange noises permeated the air. Nothing in his twenty years had prepared him for something like this.

Harry began strolling down the dock towards the carnival. "I thought we would start with some cotton candy."

/\/\/\/\/\

Draco eyed the pink confection with trepidation, "It smells like spun sugar."

Harry patted his shoulder, "Good guess."

"You can't be serious," Draco muttered, examining his funnel.

"Sirius was my godfather," Harry shot back. "Give it a try."

Tentatively, Draco took a bite of his cotton candy. The sweet was lighter and fluffier than anything he had tried before. He'd consumed the whole cone before he had realized it.

"A bit bland," Draco remarked, licking his fingers and looking around. Harry had led them into an alley of carnival games. "How did you plan on saving me, Potter?"

"I talked to Ron and Hermione about it." Harry said, stopping in front stall with glass bottles stacked in a pyramid. Harry handed the worker a pound and picked up a ball.

"Let me guess," sneered Draco, "Granger made a suggestions list."

"An _activity plan _actually," Harry answered, testing the weight of the orb in his hands. "It's sitting on my desk."

With a grunt, Harry heaved the ball at the center of the stack of bottles. They toppled with a clatter. The carnival worker sighed and began to set the glass jugs up again.

Draco snorted. "What was Weasley's idea? Staring me down until I acknowledged my mistakes and pledged to be a better person?"

"Something like that," Harry replied, picking up another sphere.

"And?"

"And I decided," Harry responded, knocking the bottles down again, "that this is my assignment. I want to do it my way."

"Your grand plan is to subject me to muggle games?" Draco asked, looking pointedly around the duo.

"There is a movement to call them Mundanes now," Harry said. He picked up the third ball and held it out to Draco.

"What do you want me to do with this?" Draco questioned, taking the rubber orb.

"Throw it."

"Throw it? Like a muggle?"

"Like a mundane, yes."

Draco turned and eyed the bottle pyramid. If Potter could do it, how hard could it be? He hefted the ball as hard as he could. It impacted the back of the stall with a thump, completely missing the stack.

Harry handed the carnie an additional pound and tossed Draco another ball. "Try again."

Draco took care with his aim before throwing. He managed to get four out of the six knocked down. Harry pointed a stuffed animal on the wall out to the carnie worker and received the plush snake.

"So, would they be called Mundaneborn then?" Draco queried after taking the blue reptile plushie.

"First Generation is the official term," Harry replied. "What was growing up with Lucius like?"

"Alright, I guess," Draco answered, blinking at the non-sequitur.

"You don't sound very confident." Harry remarked, directing them towards a bottle toss game.

"You know what I was like, Potter," Draco said, examining the small wooden rings that Harry had started tossing. "We went to Hogwarts together."

"I want to know about your life before and outside of Hogwarts." Harry retorted.

"Why?" Draco asked, flinging a ring onto a bottle top.

"I want to know what made you the man you are today."

"Voldemort made me who I am."

"I don't believe that."

"Believe what you want," Draco snapped, "but I didn't grow up with heroic stories about the Boy-Who-Lived. I fell asleep to bedtime stories about the superiority of pureblood witches and wizards. It was drilled into me from birth that I was better than everyone else because of my heritage."

Draco leaned against the stall counter, shoulders slumped, "When Voldemort came back, I fell in line because it was what I had been trained to do since birth. Didn't matter what I wanted."

"What changed?" Harry asked, collecting a cheap bracelet from the ring toss worker.

"A year living with him." Draco said quietly. "Then there was Sixth Year and Dumbledore's death. I was being punished for my father's mistakes. Mistakes he made because of how he thought, how he had trained me to think. By the time I had started to think for myself, Voldemort was in control."

Harry nodded, waiting for Draco to gather his thoughts.

"He barely paid lip service to pure blood dogma," Draco continued, "Power was his goal, I see that now. Once my family's money and contacts ran out, we were regulated to guests in our own home."

Draco tilted his head back and let out a mirthless laugh. "Generations of Malfoy's grew up, grew old, and died there. Then the snake-faced bastard turns up and my father bends the knee."

"You could have left." Harry remarked, fiddling with the bracelet.

"And go where? To the Hogwarts staff that knew I had tried to kill Dumbledore? The Weasleys perhaps?" Draco spat out. "I was marked, Potter, I couldn't just run away into a forest to wait for things to calm down."

"There is always a choice," Harry said.

"A slow and quiet fade into obscurity or quick and quite painful death." Draco deadpanned, "What a choice. I couldn't escape Voldemort any more than you could."

"Keep talking. I am starting to believe you." Harry replied.

**A/N:**

**House: **Ravenclaw

**Year:** Second

**Category:** Standard

**Prompt:** [Speech: Keep talking. I am starting to believe you.]

**Word Count:** 952


End file.
